My Days
My days are but the tombs of buried hours;Which tombs are hidden in the pilèd years;But from the mounds there spring up many flowers,Whose beauty well repays their cost of tears.Time, like a sexton, pileth mould on mould,Minutes on minutes till the tombs are high;But from the dust there fall some grains of gold,And the dead corpse leaves what will never die—It may be but a thought, the nursling seedOf many thoughts, of many a high desire;Some little act that stirs a noble deed,Like breath rekindling a smouldering fire:They only live who have not lived in vain,For in their works their life returns again.
Words in this poem
- mould n.
- Crumbling, soft, friable earth; esp., earth containing the remains or constituents of organic matter, and suited to the growth of plants; soil. [OE. molde, AS. molde; akin to D. mul, G. mull, mulm, OHG. molt, molta, Icel. mold, Dan. muld, Sw. mull, Goth. mulda, and E. meal flour. See Meal, and cf. Mole a]
- corpse n.
- A human body in general, whether living or dead; -- sometimes contemptuosly. [OF. cors (sometimes written corps), F. corps, L. corpus; akin to AS. hrif womb. See Midriff, and cf. Corse, Corselet, Corps, Cuerpo.]
- nursling n.
- One who, or that which, is nursed; an infant; a fondling. [Nurse + -ling.]
- smouldering a.
- Being in a state of suppressed activity; quiet but not dead.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
My Days is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems by Isaac Rosenberg, Project Gutenberg ebook #66889; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Isaac Rosenberg, My Days, in Poems (1922), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66889, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/rosenberg-poems/my-days.html, id L02545.
Form and metre
My Days is 14 lines in a single stanza. It rhymes ABABCDCDEFEFGG, the pattern of the English sonnet. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 92%). 91% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.7 syllables. 7% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other English sonnets, other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABCDCDEFEFGG hoursA · yearsB · flowersA · tearsB · mouldC · highD · goldC · dieD · seedE · desireF · deedE · fireF · vainG · againG
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| My days are but the tombs of buried hours; | 10 | ·······/˘/ |
| Which tombs are hidden in the pilèd years; | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| But from the mounds there spring up many flowers, | 9 | ·······// |
| Whose beauty well repays their cost of tears. | 10 | ·/˘··/···· |
| Time, like a sexton, pileth mould on mould, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Minutes on minutes till the tombs are high; | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| But from the dust there fall some grains of gold, | 10 | ·········· |
| And the dead corpse leaves what will never die— | 9 | ·······/· |
| It may be but a thought, the nursling seed | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Of many thoughts, of many a high desire; | 9 | ·/··/··˘/ |
| Some little act that stirs a noble deed, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Like breath rekindling a smouldering fire: | 10 | ··˘/˘····/ |
| They only live who have not lived in vain, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| For in their works their life returns again. | 10 | ······˘/˘/ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.